by June Winters
“How about this one? Arf Arf, remember?” Lance quietly added, “Plus, it looks like this'll be a sweet tactile experience for you.”
Irie cheerily babbled some words in response. Lance couldn't make out a single word, but it still felt like she was saying, “yes! That book would be great, Daddy!”
He took the book in one arm, the kid in the other, and sat on the living room love seat. Irie snuggled closer to him and for the first time, rested her head on his chest with a sleepy sigh.
Aw, God, Lance thought with a sorrowful happiness. The small weight of her head resting on his muscular chest made his insides melt into warm goo. She was so sweet and innocent and she already trusted him.
It was moments like those that made a man start to feel like a real father.
He gently kissed his daughter on the head, opened the book, and started reading.
“There once was a fluffy, hungry dog …”
Chapter 19
Paige
With dinner cooking on the stove-top, Paige giddily stole a break every few minutes to sneak a peek into the living room, where father and daughter were bonding at long last.
The scene in there tugged at her heart-strings. Irie was sprawled out on her Daddy's chest as he read to her. With one hand, she petted the doggies in her book. With the other hand, she blindly reached up and petted her Daddy's blond stubble.
Paige also heard when Lance took a break from reading to ask Irie a question. “Do you know who I am? Can you say Da-da?”
But Irie was still a shy speaker, and she wouldn't even try.
Nevertheless, they'd forged an instant bond, and Paige needed only to look at Irie to know that the little one was completely attached to her father already. And how could she not be? Everything about him was a totally different experience than being with Mommy. His body was so big and strong and warm, his solid arms so comforting and secure, his voice so deep and smooth, the strange stubble on his face so gritty and coarse.
In that moment, Paige could finally appreciate what her Mom had been telling her all along: that Irie needed a father. Of course, she'd known it all along, but to actually see it in action was completely different. Now, she understood it in her heart.
But there was a reason that Paige had kept Irie away from the men that she briefly tried to date. None of those men—boys, really—had even come close to proving themselves worthy. But even if one had, Paige didn't want Irie to get attached to a man that might not stick around in their lives.
She hoped that she wasn't exposing Irie to that danger at this very moment. It remained to be seen if Lance wanted to stick around and be in Irie's life. What if he was only in the honeymoon phase of being a new father? What if, once the novelty wore off, Lance began to distance himself?
He wasn't just some regular guy, some Joe Schmo who worked a cubicle job and would happily split weekends with her. He was an athlete, a famous athlete, who was accustomed to living the life of a rich bachelor. He probably couldn't split weekends, ever. Was it realistic to expect him to leave behind a pampered life for, well, dirty pampers? Did she really expect him to become the world's greatest Dad in the course of a single day?
She knew the two of them had some very serious things to talk about … and they had to talk about them soon.
***
“It's ready!” Paige happily called while plating the dinner for three: breaded and pan-fried Chicken Milanese, Irie's favorite macaroni and cheese, and steamed broccoli with olive oil and a touch of garlic.
“That smells great,” Lance said as he rose from the love seat. He carried Irie with him.
“Don't get too excited,” Paige said. “I had to learn to cut down on seasoning basically everything I cooked, or Irie won't eat it. All my cooking is pretty bland now.”
Lance lowered Irie into her high chair—or tried to, anyway. Once Irie realized she was being set down in her chair, she screamed and kicked her legs, refusing to be put down. Paige had seen this behavior before, of course. Some days, Irie was feeling too clingy for her chair and demanded to sit in Mommy's lap instead.
So Paige did what came naturally; she took Irie from Lance's arms and put the child in her lap. But to Paige's surprise, Irie's lamentations only grew louder. She bawled, her arms outstretched for Lance.
“Wow,” Paige muttered. “I think she wants to sit in your lap while she eats. Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” Lance said, wide-eyed with honor.
Paige couldn't blame Lance—but for Mommy, Irie's preference came like a small punch to the gut. She felt stupid for feeling the sting of rejection, but she couldn't help it. She'd never seen her daughter choose someone over Mommy.
Sure enough, Irie calmed the instant she was in Lance's arms again. Between bites of his own, the hockey player delivered airplane forkfuls of food to Irie's mouth. Irie chewed and swallowed her bite, then laughed up a storm as the next forkfuls came crash-landing to her mouth. Irie didn't give Lance any of the dinner time fits she sometimes gave her Mommy. Right now, Lance was probably thinking that this whole parenting thing was a breeze.
God, am I getting jealous of my own daughter? Paige wondered shamefully.
“She really likes you,” Paige said quietly. “She's getting attached to you, Lance.”
She was fully aware of how much that sounded like a warning—because it partly was. Lance didn't reply. His head was bowed, intently watching his daughter as she chewed a bite of the pan-fried chicken.
“Lance?”
Slowly, he looked up, a sullen look on his face. “I have to fly back to Boston tomorrow morning.”
“Oh.” Paige's heart shattered—for Irie's sake. She'd hate to see the two separated, but this was the inevitable part of the night where the athlete proved to be unreliable. “I thought you could stick around longer because of your suspension.”
Lance shook his head somberly. “No. I have to report back to the team tomorrow. I can't miss any practices, work outs, or meetings …”
“Oh. Figures.” Paige's fork seemed to weigh ten pounds in her hand. She lowered it to her plate with a clang. “It was nice having you around for half a day. But I guess you could never be around for longer than that, could you? You're always going to be traveling around the world, living in hotels, going out to clubs and doing who knows what.”
“Well. You're right. I'm on the road a lot, and my life won't ever be normal, thanks to my career.” He frowned, then grew hopeful. “But you and Irie could come to Boston with me.”
Her heart leapt into her throat—but she tried to stay calm. “And do what?”
“You know.” He paused to deliver another bite to his daughter's mouth, then looked up at Paige, his eyes serious. “Move in.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow. Come with me.”
“Lance …! Are you serious?”
It seemed almost too easy, too good to be true, but Lance nodded assuredly. “Dead serious.”
“I'm so happy …!” But even Paige could hear it; her excitement seemed a bit hollow. She sounded like she was holding something back.
He noticed. “Is something wrong?”
Paige watched guiltily as Irie rested her head against her father's chest.
“No, it's just—so soon! What will I tell my parents?”
“The truth. I'm Irie's Dad. And you're moving in with me. And then let ’em know that they can visit us anytime.”
“Lance!” she squealed. But still she found herself searching for complications. “But what about my job? The lease with my apartment?”
“Last night you said waiting tables isn't what you want to do with your life, right? So forget it. Leave your job. And if I have to pay a penalty to get you out of this apartment, I will. Trust me, money is no problem.”
Another rush of excitement gripped her. Paige jumped out of her chair and kissed him, deeply.
Lance pulled back with a smile. “So is that a yes?”
“Don't you think this is all a little crazy
?”
He gave a shrug. “Sure. Maybe a little. But what's even crazier is that I have a daughter.” He bounced Irie on his knee. “I mean, look at her, Paige. Look at this cutie.”
A complicated jealousy stewed in her belly again. She wanted Lance for herself—but she wanted Lance for Irie more. And Irie had to come first. And that meant Paige couldn't allow herself to get swept off her feet by this whirlwind romance with a famous hockey player, and move out to Boston on a whim, only to get her daughter attached to a man that Paige didn't know at all. What if he had a drinking problem? What if he was into hard party drugs, like some athletes were rumored to be? What if he had a bad habit of bringing strange women back to their apartment?
“You still haven't given me an answer,” Lance said, his eyes narrowing at her. “Are you sure nothing's wrong?”
“I'm so happy you asked. You already seem like an amazing father to Irie. You've been so great these past few hours …”
“But?” Lance asked.
“God, I can't believe I'm even saying this. But Lance, we still barely know each other.”
Lance groaned. “Not this again.”
Paige squeezed her eyes shut. “I just need to make sure this is something you actually want, Lance. You just got some life-changing news—I don't want you getting swept up in the moment and committing to something you aren't ready for. I can't bring you into Irie's life full-time if we're not totally sure that this will work out for us. This is all so soon, so sudden! I have to be a responsible parent here, Lance. I have to put Irie first.”
“She's my daughter too, Paige.” He almost sounded upset. “I need her in my life. And I want you in my life, too. I want to give us a shot.”
“Really? You do?”
“Two years, Paige. That's how long I couldn't shake you from my mind. Wanna know how many times I jerked it thinking about our night together over the past two years?”
She rolled her eyes. “Lance …”
He cracked a grin. “Point is, there was something about you I couldn't forget. Then to find out we have a daughter together?” He shook his head. “Look, no matter what happens between us, I'm going to make sure you two are taken care of, alright?”
That helped put her mind at ease, and she heard the words coming out of her throat.
“Then yes. I'll do it.”
Chapter 20
Lance
When dinner was over, Lance didn't have to be told what to do—he sprang from his seat, gathered all the dirty dishes, and immediately started cleaning up. Paige, on the other hand, set about giving Irie her night-time bath and then dressed her in her jammies.
He could already tell that they made a good team, and he couldn't wait to start their new lives together. It was crazy when Lance stopped to think about it, but it was really happening. That was one of the many great things about being such a handsomely paid athlete—the money afforded you so much freedom, you could change your life's direction on a dime.
And then, with the dishes done and Irie in her jammies, it was time for Paige to start packing her bags. Two suitcases for herself, and two smaller bags for Irie. Lance hung out close by, keeping Paige and Irie company.
His phone began to ring. He saw it was Sterling Image and rejected the call. I'll call that doofus back in a bit.
While Paige stuffed her suitcases, the two excitedly talked about the future they were about to run off to as if they were taking a spur-of-the-moment vacation. Paige was going to call the Burger Stand in the morning and tell them that she quit.
“Why not do it now?” Lance asked. “You know, give ’em a little more time to get your shifts covered.”
“I—I guess I could,” Paige stammered. “They'll be pissed. And it'll suck to lose the job reference. But you're right; they would want to have more notice.”
“You won't need a job reference, Paige. You won't have to work anymore at all. You'll be at home with Irie.”
“Is that how you want me?” she teased, bursting with an ornery smile. “At home, barefoot with the baby? Cooking and cleaning all day? I suppose you'll want me to pop some more little ones out too, hm?”
“That's not what I'm saying … in fact, I think you should finish your nursing degree.”
Paige dropped what she was doing to rush over and smash her lips into Lance's.
“You like that idea?” he asked, one arm around Paige and the other holding Irie.
“Love it,” she sang.
And then she picked up her phone, made an uncomfortable phone call to her employer, and then squealed. “It's done! I really did it! They were pissed, but oh well!”
Then it was Lance's turn to dream out loud about their future. He announced his plans to immediately start baby-proofing his condo as soon as they got back. He had a spare bedroom—Radar's old room—that would be perfect for the little girl. He told Paige that his sister, Ella, was an interior decorator. She'd be glad to help decorate for a baby, Lance said—in fact, she'd already decorated his condo once before! That's why he had such a sweet place.
Since Paige wanted to know more about his sister, Lance told her all about Ella, or as he sometimes called her, Honey Badger. Lance told Paige how, last season, Honey Badger had fallen in love with his teammate, Radar. It was a full-blown scandal between the two teammates, who were also best friends and roommates at the time. Radar and Ella's love affair nearly ruined their friendship and almost split the team apart in the process. But at the end of the day, Lance buried the hatchet and gave his blessings to Radar and Ella. And now look at ’em—they were married, and Honey Badger was pregnant with their first.
“Here. This is her.” Lance said as he showed Paige pictures of Ella. “Man, she's gonna be so mad when she finds out that I had a baby before she did! Ha!”
“Competitive siblings, I take it?”
“Oh, you have no idea.”
“Wow, we're finally learning about each other,” Paige said with a wild grin. “So tell me. What's it like being a professional athlete, Mr. Hockey Star?”
Lance spoke honestly about his career. First and foremost, it was his childhood dream come true. That alone made every single day a blessing. But, he admitted, some of the 'romance' of playing the game for a living had fled.
“That's just the business aspect of the game though, you know? There's all sorts of things behind the scenes that you don't really know about when you're a kid. Practices, curfews, contract negotiations, labor agreements. The fact that your agent takes a ten percent cut of your paycheck. Or the fact that we have very little free time at all. The list could go on and on.”
While throwing Irie up and down in the air, Lance explained that he was currently being considered to be the team's next captain—a huge honor, and another one of his childhood dreams.
“… and all I have to do to make that happen is, well, stay out of trouble,” he said, somewhat shakily.
“Lance, are you in trouble a lot?”
“I guess I've done some dumb things. Punching that guy out last night sure didn't do me any favors.” He gave a shrug. “The team told me I have to stop posting on social media. Apparently, they think I'm boasting about the fruits of my celebrity or whatever.”
“How? I've looked at your social media and it's all cats, Lance.”
He rolled his eyes. “I didn't post those. The team did. They deleted all my stuff.”
“Which was what?”
“You know. The things from my life. Beach pics. Sweet cars. Party pics at the club, you know, whatever else.” He lowered his voice. “Girls.”
“I'm probably not the first girl you've slept with on the road,” Paige said, hiding behind a smile. “You're not seeing anyone else right now, are you?”
“No.” He paused. “Wait, are you?”
“God, no. I did have a date with a guy from Tinder the other day, but he pulled a no-call-no-show. I wasn't surprised. Guys on Tinder usually say my daughter is a deal breaker.”
“A deal breaker?” Lance r
epeated in an angry growl. Jealously, he held Irie close against his body.
“Yeah. Nothing new, really. Dating is really tough for a single mom.”
“Good thing you won't be using Tinder anymore,” Lance growled. “You know that Tinder's full of horny dudes who only want to hook up, right?”
“I'm well aware, but wow, you sound jealous,” Paige laughed. “Hey, before I move halfway across the country to live with you, I should probably ask: you're not a controlling psycho, are you?”
Lance huffed. “Forget it. I got mad. The deal breaker comment pissed me off. She's not a deal breaker. She's my daughter.”
Paige threw her arms around Lance and squeezed him. “Aww. You're so cute when your feathers get ruffled and you get all overprotective.”
Lance's phone began to buzz and screech in his pocket again.
“Someone's calling you. Aren't you going to take that?”
Lance sighed. “I'll call him later.”
“After the trouble you got in last night for avoiding phone calls? I thought you were supposed to stay out of trouble,”—she wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him tight—“Captain.”
That word never sounded so good to Lance's ears as it did when spoken in Paige's butter-smooth southern twang. He wanted to hear it for years to come.
“Yeah. You're right.”
“Anyway, my bags are packed! I'll stay with Irie until she falls asleep, and then it's my turn to clean up.” Paige scooped Irie up. “So if you want to call that guy back, now's your chance.”
Lance nodded hesitantly. “Yeah, I guess I should.”
She gave him a long, deep kiss. “I'll see you soon … Captain.”
He smiled. “Can't wait.”
Chapter 21
Lance
Lance quietly left the apartment and stood on the metal balcony. Paige's place didn't have much of a view; only a crowded parking lot full of cars. The sky was dark, but loudly humming street lights cast the parking lot in an eerie amber light.
